BTK actually means Being Tortured by Kansas
by Kansasismyhome
Summary: Our favorite detectives travel to the heartland to pick up a famour prisoner.  See what happens...I own neither Goren nor Eames but I am babysitting a parakeet.
1. Chapter 1

BTK actually means "Being tortured by Kansas"

Chapter 1

Detective Alex Eames drove. She always drove. No particular reason why – it was

just an "Eames-thing."

Today, though, it was different. She drove and drove rapidly. The Kansas wheat

fields flashed by on either side of the NPYD Major Case squad's SUV. Her speed was

inversely related to her partner's deteriorating condition. The sicker he became, the

faster she drove.

Her partner, Bobby Goren, was sitting, slumped in the front seat. He was incredibly

quiet. Too quiet. Bobby was never quiet, except when he was asleep. His eyes were

open, but deeply sunken in his face. Sweat gathered on his brow and his face was deathly

pale – except where fever made his cheeks mottled and red.

Eames vacillated on what to do. Her snarky, in-your-face personality did not deal

well with indecision. After some time had passed she spoke.

"Bobby, are you all right?" she ventured.

Bobby stirred at the sound of her voice. He truly felt ill. The fever was rising by the

minute and there was a miserable pain across both shoulders. Most annoying was the

cough he simply couldn't shake. For the past three days he had felt poorly, but, like

most men, he had ignored the symptoms. Since leaving New York two days ago he had

begun to feel much worse.

"I'm OK, Eames," he rasped just before a bout of painful coughing silenced him.

"Bullshit," was Eames quiet response.

A rest stop sign loomed before them and Eames eased the SUV off the highway. She

pulled out the road map of Kansas to pinpoint their location. Their destination was

Wichita, but she had a sinking feeling they weren't even close. A brief perusal of the

map showed them to be over 150 miles east of Wichita. Further map reading showed

them to be near the town of Coffeyville. The name rang dim bells for Eames.

"Why is Coffeyville so familiar sounding?" she wondered aloud.

"That's the little town that stopped the Dalton Gang in 1892." Bobby promptly

answered, not realizing that Eames was only thinking aloud.

"Sick as you are you're still a flippin' computer," she groused.

A chuckle from Bobby became a choking, gasping coughing spell that seemed to go

on forever. When the coughing finally stopped Bobby was left weak and exhausted.

Sweat ran off his skin and caused his shirt to stick to him.

Eames looked at Bobby with open concern. Never before had she seen him ill. The

time Bobby had been shot didn't seem to count as an illness.

"We're heading for Coffeyville," she said, firmly.

"Why?" Bobby asked. "Wichita's our destination! We don't want to be late for our

prisoner pick-up."

"Bobby, right now you couldn't pick up a kitten, let alone a prisoner. I can't handle a

prisoner and a sick partner. I'm calling our contact in Wichita and telling him we're

gonna be late and then we're going to find an ER," Eames tone brooked no arguments.

Twenty minutes later they rolled into Coffeyville. Eames followed the big H signs

until she found the small hospital. Eames pulled into the emergency room parking area.

Leaving Bobby alone in the SUV she ran into the ER. A moment later a nurse stepped

into view.

"May I help you?" the nurse asked in a no nonsense tone.

After a brief introduction Eames and the nurse took a wheelchair out to the SUV.

Bobby was so ill he was shaking violently. Nurses are not people to tangle with and

Bobby was too sick to put up much resistance. As much as he hated wheelchairs, Bobby

wasn't entirely sure he could have walked into the ER under his own power.

For such a small town Coffeyville's hospital had a well-equipped ER. Bobby was

deposited into an exam room and left briefly alone. Going from the hot day into an air-

conditioned space had left Bobby shivering even more violently.

A different nurse entered the room. She was calm and relaxed. After introducing

herself as Paula she helped Bobby onto the exam table. Her hands were cool and dry,

compared to Bobby's feverish, sweaty skin.

"Where's Eames?" Bobby blurted.

The nurse smiled gently. "Doing paperwork, if I know hospitals. I need to do a

medical history on you. Think you're coherent enough to answer some questions?"

Bobby nodded.

"First, though, I need to examine you. Lie back and unbutton your shirt, please,"

requested the nurse politely.

Bobby was shaking so hard it was difficult to get the buttons undone. The nurse saw

his plight and took pity on him. She made short work of the buttons and then untucked

the shirt, too.

"Are you comfortable? Would you like a blanket?" Paula asked, solicitously.

"A blanket would be great," Bobby said. The word great was hardly out of his mouth

when another bout of coughing began. Before he could do anything else Bobby vomited

violently. The coughing and vomiting were excruciatingly painful. Bobby lay back, too

weak to move. When he found the strength to open his eyes a mortifying sight greeted

him. Both he and the nurse were coated with his vomit. Bobby briefly considered

shooting himself but decided an apology would suffice.

"Sorry," he muttered, miserably.

Paula appeared nonplussed. Apparently this was a frequent occurrence.

"That's OK, Mr….what did you say your name was, again?" Paula asked.

"Goren," Bobby answered. "And I really am sorry."

"I keep an extra change of scrubs around for just such happenings. Let's get you

examined so I can go change, shall we?" Paula's calm was unshakable.

The nurse listened to Bobby's heart and lungs, felt the glands in his neck, and looked

in his ears, eyes and up his nose. Her touch was light, gentle and fast. Bobby relaxed

under touch.

After the exam the nurse said, 'I'm sending in a lab tech for a blood sample, and then

a doctor will see you. I'm going to go change and I'll be back in a jiffy." Her cheery

demeanor bolstered Bobby's gloom, considerably.

The lab tech, Janet, was in almost immediately. Having been through numerous

"random" drug tests for the department Bobby knew a good lab tech when he

encountered one. Janet was friendly and efficient and accurate. Her blood draw was

completed in less than two minutes and she was on her way.

Bobby held the cotton in the crook of his elbow until he was sure the bleeding had

stopped. Given the sad state of his clothes – sweat soaked and vomit spattered – what

harm could a little blood do?

The cubicle door slid open to admit a portable x-ray unit and a radiography tech. He

was as efficient as the lab tech and also as quick. The x-ray was completed and Bobby

was left alone, again.

Thanks to years in law enforcement Bobby had been to many ERs. While he waited

to see what would happen next Bobby's mind began to wander to ER experiences of the

past. Over the years he had been shot, stabbed, slammed against the wall and had once

put his fist into a wall. The best ER that he had experienced was at Belleview. That trip

had netted him twelve stitches and a date with an uninhibited nurse. The worst ER

experience was at St. Vincent's. Not only did Bobby get the wrong pain med, which he

had informed them he was allergic to, but that nurse turned out to be a man in drag.

Between the fever and the memory Bobby shuddered, again. So far the Coffeyville ER

was getting good marks in Bobby's book for sheer speed, alone.

Until the cubicle door opened. In walked a doctor who appeared to be in his fifties

. He introduced himself as Dr. Church. The gentleness of the other people disappeared.

Dr. Church was fast but rough. Bobby felt his tension level begin to build. The

percussive exam of his chest should have been painless, but wasn't. Dr. Church's exam

left Bobby feeling shaken and annoyed.

"Let me guess," Bobby ventured. "You were in the military?"

"How'd you guess?" the surprised doctor asked.

Deciding he didn't need to go into his past Bobby shrugged and said, "Lucky guess."

Dr. Church began speaking briskly, "Your x-rays and blood test show severe

bronchitis edging into pneumonisitis. You're a pretty sick man. You need to be admitted

for IV antibiotics and respiratory therapy. You should be well enough to go home in two

or three days."

At that moment Alex Eames opened the cubicle's sliding door. "May I come in?" she asked.

"Who are you?" asked the doctor rudely. "If you're not immediate family get the hell

out of here!"

At that moment Bobby had decided he had had enough of Dr. Church. He could

tolerate rough exams and a bossy attitude, but you don't mess with his partner.

"She is my partner, my best friend, and the only family I have and I'm not staying in

your fucking hospital another minute!" The combination of trying to yell with bronchitis

was a mistake. The coughing spell that began caused the world to go gray and out of

focus. When Bobby's eyes reopened he was aware of two things: Dr. Church leaning

over him and his ID hitting Bobby in the nose, and that he was wearing an oxygen mask.

The oxygen mask was good. The ID was bad. Bobby had been able to read it. It said,

"Dr. Church: Gynecologist." Bobby reached up and pulled off the mast and gasped,

"Eames!"

"Bobby," Eames spoke, "try to relax and let them treat you."

"Eames! Why am I being treated by a gynecologist?"

"Huh?" Eames asked.

"His ID says he's a gynecologist," Bobby gasped, painfully. "Last time I checked I

didn't have a – "

"Stop right there, Goren!" Eames ordered. "I don't know what's going on, but I'll

find out." Eames rounded on Dr. Church in full Eames snarky-gone-pissed mode. "I don't

know how small towns operate their ERs, but why is a gynecologist treating a man? If

this is how things go around here I'm sorry we chose this screwed up place. He's too

sick to be moved elsewhere, but we're not staying! Now, do something for him so we

can get the hell outta here."

Dr. Church recoiled in surprise. Most people were so awed by a "doctor" that they

rarely talked back to his abrasive style. "All Coffeyville doctors do ER rotations.

Pediatricians, GPs, internists, everybody." In a weak attempt at humor he gestured at

Bobby and said, "Gynecologist does begin with guy."

In the dead silence that followed Dr. Church decided that these people needed to go.

He spoke again, "If you really don't want to stay I'll shoot you full of antibiotics, give

you a prescription for oral antibiotics, and let you go. You really do need respiratory

therapy, but hot showers will help nearly as much. You'll need to find a hotel for tonight

and fill the prescription tomorrow. Will that work for you?"

Bobby and Eames exchanged glances. It wasn't a great alternative, but it would work.

"Fair enough."

Dr. Church stood and said, "I'll be back in a minute."

After his departure Eames approached Bobby. "Sorry I got you stuck in this pissant,

podunk town."

Bobby opened his eyes and smiled. "It's OK, Eames. Frankly, I feel so awful I'm

kinda glad to be here."

"You really must feel like shit to say that, Bobby," mused Eames.

Dr. Church returned. He was carrying syringes and prescriptions. Dr. Church had

Bobby roll onto his stomach and proceeded to inject Rocefin, a fast-acting antibiotic, into

both of Bobby's hips. Bobby had been correct in his assessment of Dr. Church: he was

rough.

While Bobby buttoned his shirt Dr. Church gave Eames terse instructions. "Get this

prescription filled tomorrow. See that he finishes all of it. Have him take a hot shower as

often as possible and have him sleep propped up. I don't know what your sleeping

arrangements are, but you need to stay with him tonight. If he begins having trouble

breathing call 911 or bring him back here. I'll be on for the whole weekend.

Questions?"

"Got it!" Eames spoke sharply. "Any you," she gestured at Bobby, "had better get

your ass well, and soon."

In a few minutes Bobby and Eames were settled back into the SUV. Bobby was too

exhausted to do anything but sit mutely.

Eames found a Best Western hotel. Leaving Bobby in the vehicle she ran into the

hotel to request a room with two double beds. Their luck continued and there was only

one room available. It had only one king size bed, of course. Eames, fighting to control

her temper, took it.

Returning to the SUV Eames opened the passenger door. "Bobby, can you walk a

little way?"

Bobby nodded, wearily. Getting out of the SUV took tremendous effort. Eames took

his hand and draped it around her shoulders. "Lean on me, Bobby, so we can get you

inside."

Bobby, who was a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier, tried not to lean on Eames any

more than he had to. By the time they found their room Bobby was sweating and

gasping miserably.

Eames plunked Bobby into the nearest chair and headed into the bathroom. She

turned on the shower as hot as she thought he could tolerate it and then returned to Bobby.

"Bobby, you need a hot shower. Can you manage on your own?" Eames asked.

Bobby was able to focus on what Eames was saying. "Yeah, I think so…"

Eames figured they were both adults. "Come on, Bobby," she said. "You need a

shower as per that bizarre doctor's orders. You need to let me help you."

Bobby rose unsteadily to his feet and headed to the bathroom. Eames followed closely

behind. In the bathroom Eames unbuttoned Bobby's shirt and then had him sit on the

toilet lid to remove his shoes and socks. Helping him to his feet Eames stripped the rest

of Bobby's clothes from his unresisting body and guided him into the shower. While

Bobby showered Eames unloaded their luggage.

After about 10 minutes Eames tapped on the bathroom door. "Bobby, you 'bout done

in there?"

The water was shut off and Bobby said weakly, "Eames, can you hand me a towel,

please?"

Eames picked up two towels and opened the shower door. Keeping her eyes trained

on his face Eames handed Bobby one towel which he wrapped around his hips. The

second towel went around his shoulders. He stood still for a few moments fighting the

fatigue that threatened to engulf him.

"Bobby, can you walk into the bedroom?" Eames queried gently.

Bobby nodded slowly and went into the hotel bedroom. He stood silently looking

around for the first time.

"Eames," he said. "Where's the other bed?"

Eames laughed. "This is the only room available, Bobby. I'm sure we can manage."

Being the honorable person that he is Bobby instantly said, "That's OK, Eames. I'll

take the floor."

Suddenly, the whole day came crashing down on Eames. The snarky temper flared

and she found herself nearly shouting at Bobby, "No, you will not take the floor and

neither will I! We can share a king size bed just fine. I want you to get in that bed – and

I do mean now!"

Bobby looked at her with a look somewhere between amusement and hurt. "Could I

get dressed first?" he asked, pleasantly, gesturing at the towels.

That kinda took the steam out of Eames. "God, Bobby, I'm sorry. Sure, what do you

normally wear?" Eames regretted her outburst.

"There's a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt in my suitcase," Bobby directed.

Eames opened his suitcase and rooted through his belongings. A moment later she

handed him the sleep pants and t-shirt.

Bobby sat on the edge of the bed and bent to put on the sleep pants. The bend caused

such pain that he sat up, gasping sharply.

"Bobby, what is it?" Eames asked.

Bobby grinned sheepishly and said, "My ass! Dr. Church was none too gentle with

those shots."

Eames knelt at his feet and gently slipped the pants onto his feet, over his knees and

up to mid-thigh where the towel ended. "Stand up for me, Bobby, so we can finish

getting you dressed."

Bobby stood and removed his towels. With Eames competent help he was soon

dressed and settled into bed. Pillows under his head and the remote nearby, Bobby was

as comfortable as he had been in several days. It was only then that he took a good look

at Eames. She looked tired and very pale. Was she getting sick, too?

"Eames, are you OK?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, just tired and a little hungry. When did I last eat?" she wondered aloud.

"Bobby, there's a Chinese restaurant right across the street. I'm going to go get

something to eat. Could I bring you something?"

A smile broke over Bobby's tired face. "No, thanks."

Eames crossed the street and entered The Bamboo Garden. A short Chinese man

greeted her politely. "We closing soon. Buffet still open," he spoke in halting English.

A buffet was not exactly what Eames had in mind, but the luscious aromas made her

ravenous.

"Could I get a to-go box?" she asked.

"Sure, sure," the Asian man said.

Eames spooned up lo-mein, moo goo gai pan, egg rolls and crab ran goons. She saw a

vat of egg drop soup and decided a bowl of soup might make Bobby feel better. Another

employee, a short, pretty daughter of the owner brought Eames a Styrofoam cup with a

lid. Eames filled it with the hot soup.

Eames paid for the food, thanked Mr. Hi and Becca, and returned to the hotel. She

found Bobby watching the History Channel. He was watching a program on World War

Eames put the food on the table and approached Bobby.

"I didn't know the History Channel had stuff on World War II," Eames joked.

Bobby, missing the joke completely, spoke earnestly, "Oh, yes, the History channel

has lots of – "

"Bobby, I was just being a smart-ass. I brought you some egg drop soup. Try to eat

some of it."

Since Eames had totally forgotten utensils Bobby just drank the soup. It was the best

egg drop soup Bobby had ever eaten. Slightly salty, subtly seasoned and just the right

amount of thickening. Perfect. As he drank the soup he watched Eames. She was totally

exhausted and Bobby felt a twinge of guilt. This was all his fault.

"Eames, I'm sorry for all this," Bobby apologized, sadly.

"Save it, Goren!" Eames snapped. "None of this is your fault. Shit just happens and

you know it. I'm off to the shower and then it's bedtime for both of us."

While Eames showered, brushed and dressed for bed Bobby worried about the

sleeping arrangements. Their relationship had always been platonic and they tried to

discourage the rumor mill at work. Now, whoever read the the charges of the

department MasterCard would find a charge for only one room, not two. Even as Bobby

contemplated how to address this issue Eames exited the bathroom. To Bobby she

looked awesome in boxers and a t-shirt. Eames turned off the lights and settled into bed

beside Bobby. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep almost immediately. Another twinge

of guilt pricked at Bobby: she was only this tired because of him.

Bobby lay awake for a while before also falling asleep. But in the night he awakened

suddenly. Nausea engulfed him. Bobby managed to get out of bed and to the toilet

before vomiting again. Coughing accompanied the vomiting as well as a lot of pain.

Bobby forced himself to look in the toilet and was relieved to see only phlegm. He

realized that the pain and fullness in his chest was much better. Apparently the Roecfin

was working. He turned around and found Eames in the doorway, looking worried.

"You OK?" she asked.

"Actually, yeah," he answered. "Let's go back to bed."

This time his sleep was peaceful and restful.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

BTK Chapter 2

At 6:00am Bobby's eyes opened. Although still sick he felt much better. He rose quietly to take

another doctor prescribed shower and dress before Eames woke up.

The second super hot shower and clean clothes had Bobby feeling much better, still. After dressing

he sat in the quiet dark room and took stock of their situation.Waking up with Eames close

beside him had been a new experience. Bobby had had sex with many

women over the years, but he rarely woke up with them. He either slipped out of their apartments

quietly while they slept or he put them into a cab in the "wee small hours" of the morning.

Sleeping with women was old hat, but waking with one was new.Always introspective, Bobby

tried to sort his jumbled feelings. The more he sorted the feelings themore confused he felt. Just

accepting his ambivalent emotions did much toward finding peace.

At 7:00am Bobby gently touched Eames hair. She groaned softly but came awake anyway.

"Morning, Eames," Bobby spoke softly to his partner. "What do you say to breakfast and

finding a pharmacy?"

Eames frowned for a moment and then got out of bed. "Why don't you head outside and give me

afew minutes of privacy to dress and then I'll be ready to head out. That fine by you?"

Bobby could understand her need for privacy so he went outside to see what the day would be like.

Neither Bobby nor Eames had ever been to Kansas and Bobby rather liked it. The day was

sunny with apromise of heat and humidity. The sun was so bright Bobby had to squint as he walked around the parking lot to stretch his legs.

In about fifteen minutes Eames joined him. Looking fresh and cool in blue jeans and a white

sleeveless shirt Eames announced, "Well, I'm ready, if you are."

Bags were collected, the bill paid, and they were looking for a restaurant. They stumbled upon a

little place called "Cannings." There were several local cars parked outside even at this early hour.

Goren took that as a good sign.

Coffee, scrambled eggs, pancakes, and juice and Bobby was feeling much better. Eames ate much

less, but that was nothing new. The coffee was excellent and seemed to be loaded with plenty of

caffeine.

As they were finishing Bobby asked, "Where do you think we should go to fill my prescription?"

He was really just thinking aloud when the waitress spoke up.

"If all you need is the prescription then I suggest a little place on 11th street called The Med Shop.

Fred Walters owns and runs it. He's quick with prescriptions and a very nice man."

Eames and Bobby nodded. Quick was good. The urge to reach Wichita gripped them and they

wanted to be on their way.

The Med Shop was indeed quite close and attended by helpful people. Fred Walters did fill the

prescription quickly and they were able to be on their way in record time.

"Bobby," said Eames. "We have an appointment with the corrections department in Wichita at the

federal court house at 2:00pm. It's only 9:30am now so we have plenty of time. My Mapquest map

says that Wichita is only about 2 l/2 hours from here. If you feel like it maybe we could review the case

file."

"Sounds good, and yes I feel like it. I've taken the first antibiotic capsule. Hopefully, it will do the

trick that the Rocefin started. I do feel much better. Let me get the case file."

It didn't take Bobby long to start reading aloud from the case file. Everyone had heard of BTK,

AKA Dennis Rader. Not everyone knew everything concealed in the case file that the Wichita police

had faxed to them. Rader was being extradited from Kansas to New York to stand trial for crimes

committed in the 1970s. Rader's health had deteriorated while in prison and he was not well enough to

fly. He was to be driven back to New York by none other than Goren and Eames. Neither was

particularly happy about the long drive with a prisoner but they had not been given a choice.

"This guy is one sick bastard," Bobby said. "What really surprises me is that a newspaper would print

in such graphic detail the things he did."

"Like what?" Eames asked.

Bobby continued to read aloud until he had read it all to her. It was sick and sad.

"Bobby, could you please find the maps I printed and tell me what exit I'm going to need in

Wichita?" Eames asked.

"Sure," Bobby said and began giving Eames directions to the federal courthouse.

The federal courthouse was an older building that had been built in a time when buildings were not

just function but form as well. It was a beautiful old building that made both detectives admire it.

Once inside the building Goren and Eames had to show their shields and surrender their weapons.

They were lead into a small room without any windows, just like most interrogation rooms. They

waited briefly until the chief of police walked into the room. Without introductions or pleasantries of

any sort the chief said, "Dennis Rader was murdered in his holding cell last night. Sorry for your long

drive." He turned on his heel and left.

Both detectives were too stunned to speak. They simply stood there while the words sank in. Eames

reacted first saying, "Our luck continues to hold, Goren. All this way for nothing. I'm so angry I could

hit something!"

Bobby backed away from his partner. He had been on the receiving end of a punch she had thrown

and he never wanted to receive another from her. She was far tougher than she looked. Her diminutive

size was deceiving.

After collecting their weapons the detectives found themselves back out on the street. The relief of

knowing they would not have to transport a prisoner over hundreds of miles was palpable. They

climbed into the SUV and sat, not talking, for a few minutes. Goren spoke first, "Hey, Eames, we've

come a hell of a long way. Do you think we could do some sight seeing. I've never been to Kansas

before. If we don't take too much time I wonder if we could look around a little."

"What did you have in mind?" Eames asked.

Bobby was already looking at the Kansas roadmap they had. "I wonder where Cawker City is? They

have the largest ball of twine in the world?"

Eames burst out laughing. She seemed not to be able to stop. Bobby looked at her with a puzzled

expression. "Is this your way of saying that you don't want to see it?" he asked.

Something in his expression set Eames off again. She laughed until her sides hurt and tears were

running down her face.

"Bobby, to be honest, I'm not that interested in seeing the biggest ball of twine. Maybe there's

something else we could see?" she ventured.

Bobby returned to the map. His eyes lit up. "Hey Eames, it says that there's a Little House on the

Prairie not too far from here. Would that be OK? You always said that you liked that TV program."

"I thought that was a secret and my guilty pleasure? If it's no too far out of the way then, yes, I'd

like to see it. Where is it?" Eames asked.

"Pretty close to that screwed up little town we were in yesterday, Coffeyville." Bobby answered.

"Then I guess we need to head east," said Eames and turned the SUV around.

Tbc


	3. Chapter 3

BTK Chapter 3

Two hours later Goren and Eames saw the turn off to Little House on the Prairie.Eames steered the SUV off highway 400 and into the parking area.A brief perusal showed Little House on the Prairie to be a replica of the original.There were few artifacts to say that Laura,and Mary and their family had ever lived there. Eames was deeply disappointed.

"What's that building over there?" wondered Bobby.

It proved to be a treasure trove that Little House on the Prairie didn't. It was a one-room school house by the name of "Sunnyside School." Inside the small building were photographs dating back some 100 years, little tin dippers the children had drunk from,Tin lunch pails, slates and globes. It was like stepping back in time 100 years. Bobby was enchanted with the place. As he roamed the small room he became absorbed in one of the pictures on the wall. It was of the entire school dating 1907. One of the littlestgirls in the front row caught his eye. Her eyes held a haunted look. Perhaps it was just a shadow, but to Bobby she looked troubled. He ran his finger down the list to find her name. "Emma Loggan," Bobby said aloud. He found himself idly wondering what kind of life she had experienced. He heard a footstep behind him. He turned and found Eames directly behind him. She did not appear to be as enchanted as he was.

"You ready to move on, cowboy? We have a long drive still ahead of us." Eames said.

Bobby took one final look around and said simply, "I guess so."

As they were leaving one of the women who worked there came running over. "You can't leave yet!" she cried in warning. "There's a story coming and the local radio says we need to take cover. We don't have a basement or anything, but being in a building is better than being in a vehicle."

"A storm?" Eames asked. "What kind of a storm? I've driven through lots of storms

before. Let's go."

Bobby spoke worriedly, "What kind of storm? Rain or what?"

The woman answered, "The radio said large hail, damaging winds, tornadoes, and

heavy rain. Look at those clouds, will you!"

Sure to her words there were ugly gray, green clouds hanging low in the sky. Lightning could be seen in them. The little post office was the most secure facility around so the three of them tookshelter in it. Rain began to fall, the sky darkened even more, and then hail began todescend.Bobby looked at the hail in wonderment. He had never seen hail like this before.

"Look at it, Eames. It's amazing," he said quietly.

Eames joined her partner at the window to watch the hail fall. "Does it seem to be

getting bigger?" she asked.

Not only was it getting bigger, it was getting much bigger. Soon the little pea size hail was the size of tennis balls, then baseballs, then softballs. There was the sound of glass breaking, and lots of thunder. Goren and Eames covered their heads with their arms and waited the storm out. It is fortunate that storms like that are usually short and this one was. In a few minutes Goren and Eames stepped outside to look around. It looked like January, not June with so much white on the ground.

Goren heard Eames gasp, "Bobby, look at the SUV"

The sight that met Bobby's eyes was enough to make anyone gasp. Every bit of glass was shattered. Windshield, mirrors, turn signals, everything. The entire body of the vehicle was dented. Some dents were shallow; others could be used to bathe small children. Bobby took out his cell phone and began taking pictures of the SUV.

Eames began to laugh again. It was simply too much for her. It came to her then: Kansas didn't like her very much. Illness, death, hail, rain, destruction of the department SUV. What more could happen to them she wondered. Perhaps a plague of locusts, or the death of the first born or something.

"OK, genius, you're supposed to be so freakin' smart. Now what do we do?" she

snarked.

Bobby smiled. "I just sent the captain the pictures of the vehicle and a request for

instructions. Now we wait."


	4. Chapter 4

BTK Chapter 4

Goren's cell rang. He answered as always, "Goren."

It was Captain Ross. "Bobby," he spoke sharply, "the department wants an estimate on that vehicle and a full explanation from the two of you. ASAP."

Bobby shook his head in frustration and disbelief. Leave it to the department to blame this on them. Into the phone he said, "Yes, captain, but I don't know how long it will take. My guess is that everybody with cars parked outside will be wanting estimates."

There was a moment of silence then Ross said, "Do your best and be damned quick about it." He hung up before Bobby could even respond.

"Wonder what his problem is?" Bobby said.

"Who knows and who cares," Eames said. "Perhaps his new perm is too tight or something."

Bobby snorted laughter but then got serious. They needed to find a tow truck, a hotel, dinner, and an estimate in the next few hours. Not necessarily in that order.

Returning to the little school Bobby asked to borrow a phone book. It yielded the name of a tow company and Bobby called them. Although polite enough the woman on the other end informed them that they were on the "list."

"Just how long is that list?" Bobby wanted to know.

"Well, you're on the bottom and since it is out in the country I can't make any promises about the time frame. Certainly we can't get to you until the day after tomorrow." The woman answered.

Bobby was stunned into silence. He gave her their location and then turned to Eames. Her arms were folded over her chest and a stony expression greeted him.

"Give me the news, Goren. How long are we stuck here?" She asked through grit teeth.

"The tow truck can't be until the day after tomorrow at the earliest," he answered while backing away. Delivering bad news to Eames while in close range was a truly bad idea.

"What?" she shrieked. "We are not going to sit around here for two days while some stupid-ass company decides to come tow this SUV!"

"All right," Bobby said softly. "What should we do instead?"

"I don't know," Eames answered, raging, "but I'm going to think of something."

At that moment a miracle occurred. The woman who worked there (her name was Joan) spoke up. "I know you folks probably need a tow truck but maybe my son can help you."

"Oh, that would be great!" Eames enthused. "Anything to get us towed into Coffeyville."

So that's how Goren and Eames came to reenter Coffeyville again, but this time the SUV was being towed by a John Deere tractor.

To quote Eames, "I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life."

Bobby chuckled quietly. "Well, Eames, at least our hotel is right across the street from the body shop, Car Builders. Maybe we'll get a quick estimate, some new glass and be on our way back to New York pretty soon."

Eames eyed Bobby suspiciously. Nothing in this backwater place had worked out that smoothly so far.

The farmer who had towed them in refused any financial payment saying only that in times like these "everyone works together." Eames opinion was that every time in Kansas apparently was trouble.

Mr. Underton, at the Car Builders, had cars parked everywhere. They were much too late to be able to get the vehicle fixed quickly. Mr. Underton looked at his calendar and shrugged. Maybe in two weeks, maybe in three could he get to the car.

Only quick actions by Bobby prevented Mr. Underton from being seriously injured. By Eames. Her temper was frayed and the thought of hanging out in Coffeyville for two weeks was just enough to drive her over the edge. Trying not to laugh and trying not to be injured himself Bobby drug Eames out of the garage and restrained her until she became calmer.

Bobby stroked the hair out of her face and hugged her gently. "Eames, we aren't going to be here for two weeks. Ross can't spare us for that long. You know that."

The truth of Bobby's words registered. But how to get back to New York with a badly damaged car?

Bobby spoke up, "Let's go across to the Best Western, get a room, and see if we can't figure this out. What do you say?"

Eames still didn't trust herself to speak so she just nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

BTK Chapter 5

Goren and Eames walked across the street to the Best Western. A cool shower and a cold drink sounded good to them. For once their luck was in and two rooms were available. They settled in, showered and met for a drink.

"Are you hungry?" asked Goren.

Eames nodded. "Since we don't have a car anymore I guess we'll have to eat at the Chinese restaurant again."

"Surely there must be other restaurants in this town. You know we found Canning's this morning and I think there was another eating place behind it. Tavern on the Square or something like that. It looked like an evening restaurant to me. Want to try it?" Bobby inquired.

"Sure," Eames agreed, "but we still don't have a car."

Bobby thought this over for a moment. "I guess we could walk. It didn't seem all that far away from here."

"All right, but if I get blisters you're carrying me back here," Eames threatened.

They started walking down the street that they agreed that Canning's had been on. In about 30 minutes they found Tavern on the Square. It had been a men's clothing store years ago that had been converted to an upscale restaurant.

Bobby and Eames ordered drinks and settled in with menus. The prices, after New York restaurants, were shockingly low.

Bobby turned to the waiter and asked, "What do you recommend?"

The waiter looked surprised at the question. "A steak, of course. Order it rare with a baked potato and a salad." His tone suggested only an idiot would not know what to order.

Bobby shrugged. He was hungry and he did like steak.

Eames looked thoughtful. She ordered shrimp, steamed vegetables, and a salad, just to be different.

Their orders were just taken when Bobby's cell rang. He stepped outside to take the call which he knew were from his captain. "Goren," he answered.

"So what the hell is going on with the department SUV?" demanded Ross.

"Well, we got the car towed to a place called the Car Builders and they will try to have an estimate for us in two or three days but can't even look at the repairs for several weeks." Bobby answered.

"What do you mean, weeks?" Ross demanded irritably. "I'm getting pressure from legal to get this taken care of. You will not "hang-out" in Kansas for two or three weeks!

Now forget about the department vehicle and get your asses back here now." Ross managed to sound almost desperate.

"We'll try, captain. Do you want us to fly home?" Bobby asked, hopefully.

"Yes, get on a plane as soon as you can. If the insurance company wants to retrieve that POS they can come get it themselves." Ross now sounded a little calmer.

"Captain, we'll find some kind of transport to an airport and be home as soon as we can. I just don't know how soon that will be. I'll keep you posted." Bobby hung up and returned his phone to his pocket.

Inside the restaurant Bobby brought Eames up to speed as he ate his salad.

"So, how do propose we get to an airport without a car?" Eames asked.

"I'm not sure. You have any ideas?" Bobby asked.

"Hmm. Perhaps I could just click my heels together and say, "There's no place like home." Eames joked.

"It's a good thought. Stand up and do it for me right now. I want to see that. Perhaps we could find a basket, dog, and ruby slippers," Bobby proposed.

"I guess I could but then I'd have to put your eyes out and you might not enjoy that," Eames looked entirely too serious for Bobby's taste.

"OK, maybe another idea," Bobby ventured.

At that moment their food arrived. Bobby had eaten many steaks in his life, but this steak was wonderful. Tender and flavorful. He ate it with great enjoyment. Eames seemed to enjoy hers, too.

As they were enjoying coffee Eames came up with an idea. "Bobby, you know we try never to 'trade' on our careers. You know what I mean, no free food, no free parking, and no discounts. Right?"

"Sure, Eames, it's not the right thing to do."

"Right, but this is an emergency and we do need to get back. Perhaps if we appealed to the local police we could get at least a ride to an airport." Eames seemed uncomfortable but willing to try anything.

To her surprise, Bobby smiled. "Eames, you're a genius. Now we need to find the local PD and talk to them."

As they were paying their bill Bobby asked the cashier where the police department was. To his relief she told him that it was only two blocks north. An easy walk.

Goren and Eames strolled through the downtown area. It was a beautiful summer night and Goren tucked Eames arm through his elbow. She looked a little surprised but smiled.

They found the local PD without any trouble. The detectives walked into the small city hall where the PD was housed. A dispatcher sat behind a screen wearing a head-set.

"May I be of assistance?" she asked.

At that moment Bobby and Eames couldn't think of quite what to say that wouldn't sound rude or demanding. Bobby finally thought of something to say, "Is there a supervisor or a captain or someone that we could talk to?"

The woman nodded and spoke into her head-set, "Detective Smith, please come to the reception area. He should be here in a moment. Have a seat on the bench, if you want."

A moment later a door popped open and a man entered. He was sturdily built and handsome with a friendly smile. "Dennis Smith," he spoke eagerly.

Handshakes all around followed and the detectives showed their shields. Officer Smith was pleased to meet them and invited them into his office. After some small talk Bobby got down to business. "Officer Smith, we have a problem. We drove all the way from New York to pick up Dennis Rader. Since he died that part of our trip didn't work out. Then the department SUV was pretty much destroyed in the hail storm and now we are left here without transport of any kind. We need to get to an airport and fly back to New York."

Smith shook his head. Today, everyone had some sort of a hail story.

"You haven't had a lot of luck, have you?" Smith asked.

"You don't know the half of it," muttered Eames.

Smith thought for a moment. "Which airport do you want to go to?"

"Which one is the closest?" Bobby asked.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma is the closest, then Wichita, then Kansas City. How soon do you need to go?" Andress wanted to know.

"Soon," was their response.

"Let me fire up my computer and we'll see if we can't find you a pair of tickets home and then we'll find a way to get you to the airport." Dennis had a cheerful demeanor.

A check of the Tulsa airport website showed a flight leaving a noon on the day after tomorrow. Bobby put the tickets on the department Master Card. That accomplished, the conversation turned to getting to the airport.

Dennis smiled at them and said, "That day happens to be my day off. How about if I drive you to Tulsa?"

Goren and Eames were shocked at the offer. "We don't want to take up your day off with our troubles," Bobby said.

"No trouble at all," Dennis said. "I have to go to Bartlesville anyway and the Tulsa airport is only a few miles further. It really is no trouble."

Goren and Eames exchanged shrugs. If Smith didn't mind, it was wonderful for them.

Smith walked them out. When he discovered they we walking back to the hotel he insisted on giving them a ride. Eames feet were hurting and a ride was just what she needed. At the hotel Smith shook their hands again and said he would see them the day after tomorrow. Suddenly, he stopped and said, "Would you like to come to a cook-out my wife and I are hosting tomorrow? It's just for friends and neighbors. We'd love to have you join us."

Bobby looked a little embarrassed and said, "Oh, no, we couldn't intrude on your plans."

Smith chuckled and said, "It's not an intrusion if I invite you. I'll come by tomorrow night around 6 and pick you up. Is that good for you?"

Eames looked doubtful but said, "I guess so."

After Smith pulled away Eames spoke softly, "This place kinda reminds me of the place where the Stepford wives lived. You know, too nice. So nice it's scary."

"Maybe that's what small towns are like Eames," said Bobby.

Bobby could have sworn that Eames murmured "bullshit" as she walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

BTK Chapter 6

The next day brought the first calmness Eames had experienced yet. A late breakfast and no car left them with little to do. Bobby became restless enough he decided to cross the street again and check on the car estimate. He returned shortly with papers in hand.

"Eames, look at this estimate! There's so much damage to the SUV it would cost more to fix it than it is worth. I'm going to see if the hotel has a fax and I'm going to fax it to the captain," Bobby said.

Eames, curled up with a book beside the hotel's indoor pool, just nodded her head. It felt too good to relax, and she had no intention of getting all worked up over the damn car.

Bobby returned in a few minutes talking on his cell phone. The captain told him that the insurance company was totaling the car. They were no longer obligated to have any concern about it. One problem remained: IAB always examined any situation where a piece of departmental property is destroyed. They would have to attend a hearing when they returned to New York.

"Well, that's just crap," stormed Eames. "How the hell are you supposed to avoid hail? Besides not coming to this God-forsaken place, of course."

"Don't get too upset," Bobby soothed. "I'm sure it will all work out fine. There's a nice park just behind the hotel. Want to go for a walk?"

The thought of some exercise sounded good to Eames so they left the hotel and walked to the park. It was called Walter Johnson Park and was as tree filled as anything Central Park had to offer.

Making the mistake of thinking aloud again, Eames asked, "Who was Walter Johnson?"

Bobby instantly launched himself into full Goren-mode explanation of the pitcher, his record, and everything else about him. If it would not have been too rude Eames would have covered her ears.

The park also contained a rodeo arena, an old train, and livestock barns. It felt good to stretch and walk after so many days of riding in cars and the park seemed heaven sent for that. After an hour in the park they returned to the hotel. A nap was in store for Eames but Bobby was still too restless.

"I think I need a longer walk," Bobby said. "I'll see you later."

"Don't forget! We have that cook-out thing this evening," Eames reminded Bobby.

"I'll be back in plenty of time for that," Bobby assured her.

Small towns had never interested Bobby sufficiently to let it be one of his areas of expertise, but Bobby had seen just enough of the downtown area to intrigue him. He wanted a closer look. His long legs carried him into the downtown area. He examined the murals that covered many walls. He thoroughly enjoyed the Dalton Defender's Museum, and even ventured down Death Alley to examine the walls for bullet holes.

Time flew and it was 5:30 before Bobby even realized it. He hurried back to the hotel as fast as he could.

Just before 6pm Bobby knocked on Eames' door. She answered, looking gorgeous in stone colored jeans and a simple white blouse. Bobby could never decide if it was safe to compliment her or not. He took his life in his hands and said, "Gosh, Eames, you look great! So cool and summery." Just right, he thought, not too gushy but complimentary enough.

She smiled her snarky smile and Bobby figured his life as he currently knew it was over, but she simply said, "Thanks. We should probably go outside and see if Dennis is here yet."

Dennis arrived promptly at 6 and drove them to his house. They pulled up into the driveway of a gracious Cape Cod style house. The landscaping was simple and attractive. Dennis jumped out and invited them into the backyard. The backyard proved to be a small but deliciously cool space. The cream of the Coffeyville crop was present.

Doctor, lawyer, merchant chief were all in attendance that night. Dressed in their casual best and on their best behavior the people of Coffeyville introduced themselves to the two New York detectives. Eames was much more outgoing than most people believed and was soon enjoying conversation with a local lawyer. Goren was much more reticent than most people believed and tried, unsuccessfully, to melt into the shrubbery. Dennis prevented that and soon had Bobby visiting with a local car dealer.

As the evening wore on Dennis introduced Eames to his wife, Ronnie. Eames wrote

Veronica off immediately as a nonentity. To Eames she looked like an aging Barbie Doll and Dennis was no one's idea of a Ken. After only a few polite words she wandered off to get a plate of food.

The evening wore on pleasantly enough with really only one topic of conversation: the hail storm. Everyone had broken glass, smashed cars, roofs which would need replaced and insurance companies that were shaking their heads. Yet, for all that, everyone seemed cheerful and relaxed. People whined and complained but also seemed to find the situation rather funny.

Finally, not able to stand it another minute, Eames turned to an older woman standing next to her and said, "After all the property damage how come nobody seems upset? I would be if my car and house were damaged!"

The old woman turned wise eyes on Eames. "We are upset, but we know that the next disaster – flood, drought, fire – is probably just around the corner. So we save showing our upset for the really big stuff – like if the Democrats get in power."

Eames figured that Bobby's mom wasn't the only one who was crazy. She had just met a whole town of them. Get me outta here, thought Eames.

By 9pm most everyone had headed home. Goren and Eames occupied a free standing yard swing and watched the sunset. Goren sipped a beer and Eames nursed an ice tea.

Conversation was unnecessary.

Dennis approached them. "I'll bet you want to get back to the hotel, but before I take you back would you like to see my hobby? I restore old cars and I-"The rest of his statement was lost as Bobby leaped out of the swing.

"What kind of car are you restoring? What year is it? How far along-" The rest of his questions were lost to Eames as they scurried off to the garage. Eames sighed.

At that moment Ronnie stuck her head out the back door. "Alex, you want to come inside away from the flying livestock?" Alex had never seen such large and hungry mosquitoes. She had flown in planes smaller than the Kansas mosquitoes.

Eames entered the back door into one of the prettiest kitchens she had ever encountered. Warm, inviting, well-equipped but not cluttered, Ronnie's kitchen was a place to warmth and comfort. Eames joined Ronnie at the kitchen table and was soon chatting with her. Eames had to reevaluate her opinion of Ronnie after only a few minutes of conversation. Ronnie was warm, caring, intelligent and interesting to talk to. Eames regretted writing her off earlier.

Sometime after 11pm the back door popped open again this time admitting Bobby and Dennis, "Eames, you should see the 1965 Mustang Dennis is restoring. It's gonna be great," he enthused.

Eames smiled indulgently but said, "Bobby, we have a long day tomorrow and we need to get back to the hotel. Soon."

Bobby looked crestfallen, but Dennis recovered quickly and smoothly, "Yeah, it's late. I need to get you back to the hotel."

The trip to the hotel was short and they were in their rooms before midnight. Dennis' departing words rang in Eames ears, "See you tomorrow morning at 9."

Personally, she couldn't wait for the trip back to New York.


	7. Chapter 7

BTK Chapter 7

Morning couldn't come soon enough for Detective Alex Eames. She was so ready to get out of Kansas and back to New York that she could taste it. By 7am she was up dressed, showered, packed, and ready to hit the road. Dennis wasn't due to pick them up until 9 so she had to make due with watching the Today Show until then. She called Bobby at 8 just to assure herself that he would be ready to go by 9. He answered on the first ring.

"Eager, are we, Eames? Can't wait to get back to the Big Apple?" he teased.

"You got that damn straight," she responded briskly. "I've had enough of sunflowers, and serial killers, thank you very much!"

Goren's chuckle carried over the cell phone. "Well, it is going on 9. Wanna check out the continental breakfast?"

"OK, but if it looks like it's all carbs I'm not eating," Eames retorted.

By 9 Goren and Eames were standing outside the hotel. They had paid their bill and were just waiting for Dennis. Right on time Dennis pulled up into the parking lot. He jumped out and opened the hatch of the SUV and helped stow their luggage.

Eames started to get into the back seat of the SUV, but Bobby stopped her. "Eames, I'll sit in the back seat. You'll be more comfortable up front."

Eames shook her head. "You sit up front, Bobby. There's more leg room and besides I'm sure you want to talk cars with Dennis."

"If you're sure?" Bobby asked.

"Positive," Eames answered. She began to get into the backseat but then stopped.

"Why is there a tuba in the back seat?" she ventured.

Dennis explained, "It's actually a marching sousaphone, not a tuba. It needs to go to the repair place we use in Bartlesville. That's the reason I need to go to Bartlesville today. You may have to hold it on your lap, if that's not a problem."

Finding graciousness from somewhere Eames said, "No, not a problem at all."

In minutes they were rolling down the highway, the men talking a mile a minute and Eames sousaphone-sitting. They turned south in a small town called Caney and then Eames saw a sign that said "Leaving Kansas, Come Again." Not if I can help it, she thought. Aloud she said, "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." The next sign said "Welcome to Oklahoma." Eames sincerely hoped no one broke into songs from her least favorite musical. She felt sure she would have to drown them out with tuba music if anyone started singing.

Fortunately, Bobby and Dennis were so engaged with car talk that she had time for reflection. She would never have admitted it to anyone, but the trip had not been all bad.

The cook-out was enjoyable and it had been nice to be away from the nightmares that New York City could be. Her eyes gazed out over wheat fields, cattle herds and horses.

Yes, the Midwest was a beautiful place to visit.

They passed one of the largest buildings Eames had ever seen. It was a Wal-Mart distribution center. Eames couldn't help wondering how many people slaved away inside that huge building, never seeing the light of day, and working for minimum wage. She had to shake that particular thought away.

It was only a few minutes later that they made a left turn and began to see signs for the Tulsa Airport. It was a small place after having flown through JFK and La Guardia.

Dennis pulled up out front and popped the hatchback again. Bobby offered to pay for gas but Dennis resolutely shook his head. Hands were shaken all around and then Dennis left.

"Wasn't he one of the nicest people you've ever met, Eames?" Bobby asked. Eames agreed with Bobby's assessment, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "I thought he should have been one of the Stepford Husbands or something," she answered tartly.

"Bullshit, Eames, you don't mean that!" Bobby scolded.

"Like hell I didn't," she laughed and headed into the airport.

They took their place in the line moving through security. Since it was a small airport it took very little time to get cleared and to move to their terminal. Bobby spoke quietly into her ear, "Did I ever tell you that I have a little problem with flying?"

"Dear God," Eames snapped. "What's your problem?"

"You know I have space issues," he confided, looking unhappy. "And believe me, airplane seats are not that roomy."

"And just what do you expect me to do about that?" snarked Eames.

"Well, I was hoping we could sit close together and you could …like distract me, if I get too upset," was Bobby's hopeful response.

Eames rolled her eyes and then fastened them on Bobby. "Like what happens to you, if you get upset?"

Bobby truly looked wretched when he answered, "Sometimes I try to open the airplane door because I feel like the walls are closing in on me."

Instead of snapping at him as he had expected, Eames laughed. "Bobby you do surprise me. You're going to be fine. I'll put you by the window, I'll sit on the inside of the aisle and you won't be able to get out unless I let you out. One question though, have you ever tried Dramamine?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, do you think it would help?"

"One way to find out," answered Eames and retreated into a gift shop. She returned a few minutes later with a small brown bag.

At 11:30 Eames handed Bobby three small white pills and a Sprite. "Here, take these and drink some of this," she directed. Bobby complied with her request.

"They're really small, do you think three will be enough?" he asked worriedly.

Eames smiled. "I think you'll be fine."

By the time it was their turn to board Bobby seemed very quiet and calm. Eames guided him into a window seat, put his carry on in the overhead compartment and then sat in the aisle seat. "How do you feel, Bobby?" she asked.

Bobby looked at her and said, "Sleepy, a little."

"That's fine. In fact, it's a good idea for you to take a nap for a while. Why don't you try to get comfortable?" she suggested. For the next few minutes she fastened his seat best, found an XM radio station he would like and then just sat beside him observing his actions. When he slumped over on her shoulder, put to sleep by the medicine, Eames had to smile. Her little plan had worked out just fine.

As the plane roared down the tarmac she couldn't help feel a sense of relief. The Midwest was not the place for them. In a few hours they would be back in New York and Eames couldn't wait.

Bobby woke up briefly. "Eames, do you ever think about living in the Midwest?"

Eames shook her head and said tartly, "No, and neither do you."

The End

…and thanks for reading.


End file.
